


the measure of man

by Potrix



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, M/M, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Mutant Powers, Mutants, POV Tony Stark, Pack, Pack Dynamics, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Revelations, Social Issues, Surprises, Tony-centric, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-16 21:19:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: It’s a little weird, probably, to miss someone he barely knows. It’s definitely stupid to get all possessive over someone he’s met face to face for all of five minutes, especially another, strange Alpha who’s more likely to punch him than submit if he’d listen to his haywire instincts, and try to lay a claim on him. And the pining is just downright pathetic, if he’s being honest with himself.Tony’s doing all of it anyway, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [operationhades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationhades/gifts).



> Basically just a story set post CA:TWS, in an A/B/O world where the vast majority of people have the mutant gene, AoU never happened, everyone communicates a whole lot more efficiently, and Ross is still a dick. Unfortunately, I’ve found a way to put Tony through some of the bullshit from CA:CW anyway, because I’m mean like that.
> 
> Dear giftee, I hope the amount of Steve in here is okay with you. I know you're still rightfully angry at him, but he and Tony hug, which is basically what all of us have wanted since Avengers 1, right? 
> 
> Enjoy!

▫▪ the measure of a man is what he does with power - plato ▪▫

Tony doesn’t slam the door on his way out of Secretary Ross’ office, but he does grab all of the candy out of the little bowl in the waiting area. It won’t make a difference to Ross, but Tony’s feeling petty, and he has to let some of his anger out somehow. 

Months of talks, of arguments and negotiations, and all for nothing. Hours upon hours Tony’d spent trying to find a compromise everyone from Ross to Cap would be willing to agree to, so much work put into preventing Ross’ more extreme suggestions while still finding a solution to placate him and the WSC, only for them to try and force Tony out at the last moment. 

And for something as trivial as not having the gene. 

It’s not like Tony isn’t aware of to the ostracism and isolation—he had attended public school, and lived in a dorm with a roommate during his time at MIT, at his mother’s insistence—but sometimes, he’s still taken aback by the ignorance and cruelty of the Gifted, even now. He just hadn’t expected this sort of prejudice from the goddamn Secretary of State, but, in hindsight, that had probably been extremely naive; the Gifted still occupy the vast majority of political seats, and he really shouldn’t be surprised that Ross would use Tony’s status as a Neutral to try and kick him off the Accords panel. 

After Tony’d already put hundreds of thousands of dollars into projects promoting a safe, peaceful coexistence of superheroes and the general population, of course. 

Not that Tony being a Neutral is the actual reason that Ross wants him gone, but rehashing the old argument about whether or not the non-Gifted should be allowed into positions of power is guaranteed to earn Ross more sympathy than admitting that he wants the Accords in their harshest, most anti-superhero version to go through, no matter what. The public loves their heroes, and, at best, remains wary about Neutrals, which puts Tony between a rock and a hard place. 

He’s still fuming about it when he arrives back at the tower, grumbling to himself in the elevator up to the communal floor. Ross can’t get rid of him this easily, not without an actual, tangible reason as well as the support of the other panel members, but he’ll definitely try, and that’s enough to have Tony in a pissy mood. 

Steve is waiting for him when the doors slide open, pacing up and down the hall with a slight frown on his face. It intensifies the moment he spots Tony, and Tony just about has time to huff, and roll his eyes before he’s enveloped in a full body hug. 

“Thanks, Cap,” he murmurs into Steve’s shoulder, awkwardly patting him on the back, “but I’m fine.” 

“Mhm, sure,” Steve says mildly, and rests his chin on top of Tony’s head. “That’s why I’ve been sensing your anger and embarrassment since you stepped foot into the garage.”

It’s useless to lie to an empath, especially one as stubborn and protective as Steve, so Tony resigns himself to his fate, and hugs back. “Get out out of my head, Spangles.” 

“You know that’s not how it works.” Steve gives him one last squeeze before stepping back. “How are you, Tony? Really?”

Tony shrugs, rubbing at his forehead, where a headache is starting to make itself known. “Meeting went about as well as expected. Ross is still pushing for the Accords, despite all the work we’ve done, using your old pal Bucky as an example for why the State should have full access to information about heroes, and control over what they do, especially Gifted ones. While conveniently ignoring the fact that the HYDRA corruption ran all the way up to the highest levels of government, of course. Oh, and he’s decided I’m not fit to be part of the committee anymore, given that I’m a Neutral. So, honestly, I’ve been better.” 

Steve pulls a face, but, thankfully, leaves it at that for the moment. He does snatch Clint’s arrow out of the air, though, when it whizzes past them, only barely missing Tony’s head. “Careful!” he yells in the general direction of the living room, pinching the bridge of his nose at Clint’s sheepish, “Whoops, sorry!”

Laughing softly, Tony takes the arrow, and removes the donut hanging from it, stuffing it into his mouth while grinning at Steve. The arrow wiggles in his hand, so he lets go of it, watching it zoom back to its master at an only slightly less dangerous speed. 

It’s hovering in front of Clint’s face when Tony falls onto one of the couches, while Clint strokes it, and coos at it. Natasha, squished into the loveseat with Clint, studiously ignores the shenanigans going on right next to her, but does quirk a smile at Tony in greeting. 

Tony scoots closer to Bruce, who lifts an arm without looking up from his book to allow Tony to snuggle up against him. It’s a little hypocritical of Tony, maybe, that he’d instantly felt the most connected to Bruce as the only other semi-Neutral on the team, but their friendship isn’t only based on the fact that Bruce’s mutation is man-made; they’re scientists, and nerds, and Bruce is the only one who not only indulges Tony when he’s deep into one of his rants, but can actually follow them. 

Sam comes out of the kitchen a moment later, carrying a huge bowl of his special spicy popcorn, and flops down on Tony’s other side. One of his wings lands halfway in Tony’s lap, and Tony’s fingers immediately move to stroke through the feathers out of their own accord. When he realises what he’s doing, Tony turns to scowl at Sam, but it’s halfhearted at best. Sam smiles back serenely, because he knows exactly how soothing most people find it to groom him. The smug asshole. 

Once Steve has taken a seat as well, Nat unpauses the movie, and leans back against Clint, settling in. Steve dozes off a couple of minutes later, as he’s wont to do whenever he gets the chance, and feels safe enough to do so. Bruce continues to read, shifting to take a sip of his tea every now and again, while Sam shamelessly turns his wing this way and that, making sure Tony gets all the good spots. Clint occasionally sends his arrow over for popcorn, which ends with more of it on the floor than actually in Clint’s mouth, and Nat swatting at him whenever he accidentally drops some on her. 

It’s a familiar situation, after months of living together, and Tony can already feel some of the accumulated tension seep out of his body. He breathes in deeply, and drops his head on Bruce’s shoulder, eyes fluttering half shut. They’re not a pack, exactly, not yet, but they’re close enough to it that being surrounded by their combined scents is calming, reassuring.

Tony’s startled out of his floaty state by the shrill sound of the Avengers alarm, jumping up to grab one of the StarkPads lying around while demanding, “JARVIS? What’s happening?” 

_“The information is inconclusive as of yet, Sir,”_ JARVIS starts, projecting what looks like a shaky video from someone’s phone onto the darkened windows, _“but an attack in downtown D.C. has been confirmed. The individual appears to be Gifted, although not affiliated with any known organisation. More footage is being uploaded as we speak—”_

“Buck,” Steve breathes, suddenly, stepping closer. “JARVIS, rewind about three seconds, please. Yes, here, freeze.”

And yes, there it is, an unmistakable flash of a metal hand shoving a car out of the way like it weighs nothing, right in the middle of a scene of absolute chaos.

“Well, shit,” Clint says, arms crossed over his chest. “That doesn’t look good.”

“We don’t know what’s going on yet,” Nat points out, squinting intently at the now multiple videos JARVIS is showing. “Steve insisted Barnes was the one to drag him out of the Potomac—”

“It was him, it had to be!”

“—and that he was starting to remember, so there has to be an explanation for this. Or,” she snaps her fingers, then points at someone in one of the videos, JARVIS stopping it for her without having to be asked, “a reason.” 

“Do we know him?” Sam asks, brows furrowed. “He doesn’t look familiar.” 

Bruce shakes his head, attention focused on a tablet. “JARVIS is searching for a match, but he doesn’t seem to be a member of any group classified as villainous. But—”

“But he seems to be giving the orders,” Tony finishes, nodding. “And Barnes seems to be carrying them out, voluntarily or not. JARVIS, start the jet, everyone go get suited up. Take-off in two minutes.” 

Tony has to nudge Steve to get him going, but they all manage to be in the quinjet in half the time. The flight is long enough for them to figure out that the person in charge is Colonel Helmut Zemo, a Sokovian special forces officer turned terrorist, from the looks of it. His wife and son were killed on a trip to the U.S., caught in the crossfire when a government task force went to shut down the protest of Neutral purists they were attending, meaning they also have the probable motive. 

It’s unclear how Barnes got involved, but their first priority is damage control, and to get the civilians to safety. Steve glares at Nat when she reminds him of that, but manages a tight, jerky nod. 

They split up once they land, with Bruce staying behind for now. Things have escalated already, and the Hulk, as useful as he’s proven to be, is not the most restrained kind of guy. 

Tony heads for Zemo, touching down behind him, and flicking back the faceplate of the Iron Man suit. “You know, you’re really giving the Neutral population a bad rep, buddy.” 

From there, it’s on. Zemo is clearly unhinged, possessed by his grief, spewing hatred about how the mutant population should never have been allowed to grow and take over like this, how the Neutrals are the only true humans, how ironic it is that he, a Neutral, is controlling the favourite weapon of HYDRA, who’d planned on eradicating the Neutral plague along with everyone else standing in the way of their twisted, sick, Nazi bullshit. 

If they weren’t on opposite ends of the Neutral/Gifted spectrum, Zemo and the HYDRA people would get along fabulously. 

When Zemo finally collapsed to the ground, Nat standing behind him with a syringe in her hand, Tony breathes out a sigh of relief. “Took you long enough,” he snarks, grinning when Nat just flips him off. 

They’re both brought back down to earth with a jolt when Steve screams, loud enough to be heard above the fighting, followed by desperate gurgling coming over the comms. Nat shimmers for a second before disappearing, and Tony pushes down the faceplate before taking off, too. 

It becomes obvious what the problem is when he sees Steve and Barnes facing off against each other, surrounded by the rest of the Avengers and dozens government lackeys with their weapons drawn, Barnes flesh hand outstretched towards Steve while Steve clutches at his throat, already an alarming shade of white. His eyes are red, and there’s blood under his nose and trickling out of his mouth, but no one seems to be ready to shoot at or tranq Barnes, unsure what is going to happen if he’s taken out of commission. 

There’s a moment where Tony’s tempted to say screw it, and attack Barnes anyway. But then he shoves the memory of his parents’ bloodless bodies, of Steve’s devastated expression when he’d brought the footage to Tony out of his mind, and carefully flies closer instead.

He doesn’t notice Nat approach, but Barnes obviously does, somehow; his free hand shoots out to curl around nothing, at first glance, until Nat materialises, gasping for breath, and scrabbling at Barnes’ metal fingers. At least his powers are still focused on Steve, though, because blood manipulation is a bitch to deal with for a human without the added strength of the superserum, Gifted or not. 

Tony doesn’t even really think about it before he lands between Barnes and Steve, hands held up placatingly. Barnes’ eyes immediately focus on him, but they’re empty, dull, his mind clearly somewhere far away. He stinks of Alpha aggression, and Tony silently curses his own Alpha designation, trying to make himself appear as unthreatening as possible, but not backing down either, because there’s no better option. Nat and Steve are Alphas as well, and out for the count at the moment, Bruce and Sam are Betas, and Clint, even though an Omega, is the least comforting out of them all. 

Steve makes a protesting noise when Tony opens up his armour to step out of it, but Tony ignores him, keeping his focus on Barnes. If Barnes suddenly decides to suck all his blood out through his ears, being encased in metal won’t help Tony, anyway. 

“I’ll spare you the whole superhero monologue,” Tony says, slowly creeping closer. He has no illusions about Barnes not seeing what he’s doing, but so far, Barnes doesn’t look like he’s about to attack. “But you don’t have to do this. Which you’d probably know, if you were really yourself, huh?”

Barnes bares his teeth, scenting the air. His chest is heaving with the effort of keeping both Nat and Steve where he’s got them, but he’s staying still, at least at first. But then he snarles, and behind Tony, Steve starts choking, and Tony panics. 

“Don’t,” he snaps, taking another step closer to Barnes. “Don’t, Barnes. James. Stop it. Stop!”

And Barnes—he does. He looks as confused about it as Tony feels, but Tony isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Encouraged, he repeats, “Stop it, let them go. Please, stop.” 

Nat scrambles out of reach the instant Barnes lets go of her, drawing her knives, while Steve, from the sound of it, falls to his knees, panting wildly. 

Barnes is blinking rapidly, shaking his head, but his eyes remain fixed on Tony. “You—” he croaks, and closes the rest of the distance between them, until they’re chest to chest. He leans down, pressing his nose against Tony’s throat, and inhales deeply. 

It’s highly inappropriate, too intimate, but Tony feels frozen, and shudders when Barnes human hand comes up to cup the side of his neck. He puts a tentative hand on Barnes’ side, astonished to feel Barnes breathe out, and relax under his touch. 

“Thank you,” Barnes whispers, quiet enough only for Tony to hear.

Tony has absolutely no idea what he’s being thanked for, but he catches Barnes when Barnes’ knees buckle, winding an arm around his waist to keep him steady, and promises, “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case they weren't obvious from the context, everyone's powers/mutations are:
> 
> ◦ empathy (Steve)  
> ◦ object/kinetic energy manipulation, kind of a mix between Gambit and Yondu (Clint)  
> ◦ perception manipulation (Nat)  
> ◦ wings (Sam)  
> ◦ Hulk, accidentally appropriated/created (Bruce)  
> ◦ blood manipulation (Bucky)
> 
> I would also like to very sincerely apologise to my giftee for only posting the first chapter of the story. Somehow, despite having organised several of these exchanges already, I completely underestimated the work that goes into it, and wasn't able to finish the whole story. I'm a terrible role model, I know. But the rest will be uploaded sometime next week, I promise. I've already asked people to kick my ass and yell at me until I've finished everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer than I expected, sorry about that. I had a cold for a couple of days, during which I did nothing but whine and watch shitty TV, and then I was out enjoying my newfound health all weekend. But I’m back with chapter two, now! There’s one more to go after this (which won’t take another ten days to be finished, hopefully), and then a little epilogue, maybe. But chapter three will definitely conclude the story. 
> 
> Also, for those of you who’ve started reading when I posted the first chapter, you might’ve noticed that I changed the summary. That’s all I’ve changed, though, no worries; everything else stayed exactly the same.

It’s a little weird, probably, to miss someone he barely knows. It’s definitely stupid to get all possessive over someone he’s met face to face for all of five minutes, especially another, strange Alpha who’s more likely to punch him than submit if he’d listen to his haywire instincts, and try to lay a claim on him. And the pining is just downright pathetic, if he’s being honest with himself. 

Tony’s doing all of it anyway, though. 

“Okay, that’s it,” Rhodey decides when he goes to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony can’t keep himself from growling at him. “You need to go see him. Or call him, at least.”

Instead of answering, Tony takes a huge bite of his burger, and valiantly ignores the annoyed looks the waitresses are shooting their way. He’ll leave an extra large tip later, to make up for his Alpha posturing. 

Rhodey isn’t deterred, though, grabbing a fry from Tony’s plate, and pointing it at Tony. “Listen, Tones,” he says, voice deliberately gentle, and that just makes Tony bristle even more, “this isn’t healthy, and you know it. You’ve never been territorial, you’ve never had a problem with me, or any other Alphas, for that matter, getting all up into your personal space. Not until you bonded with Barnes.” 

“We didn’t—” Tony snaps, and then, when one of the waitresses glares at him, continues in a quiet hiss, “We’re not bonded.”

“Pre-bonded, same difference,” Rhodey says, waving dismissively with his stolen fry. “I know I don’t need to explain the biology to you. Spontaneous bonds are rare, even more so between people of the same designation, but they do happen. You know that. The only reason you’re even still standing and not suffering from bond separation is because the two of you barely touched, and they immediately took him away before the bond had a chance to settle properly.” 

Tony snatches the dumb fry out of Rhodey’s hand, swipes it through the ketchup on his plate, and stuffs it into his mouth. “And, as I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, bonds that haven’t settled will break eventually, so. I don’t see the problem. I’m fine.”

Raising a challenging eyebrow, Rhodey reaches for Tony’s glass of water, deliberately brushing their bare forearms together as he does so. Tony flinches, but manages to bite back the snarl that’s building up in his chest, flipping Rhodey off with his free hand. 

“This isn’t fine,” Rhodey says, face pinched, full of concern. Tony has to look away from it. “You’re not fine.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “For a spontaneous bond to form, the two of you have to be insanely compatible. It’s a one in a million chance, Tony, and you, what? Want to just wait it out? Until the bond breaks in a couple of months?” 

“We don’t even know if he’s into other Alphas,” Tony points out, rather reasonably, he thinks. “Or men, for that matter.”

“Tony, you started a bond, after only a few seconds of physical contact. That’s—”

“That’s biology,” Tony cuts in, and pushes back his chair. “It doesn’t mean anything. Now,” he pulls out his wallet, throwing a couple of bills on the table, “are we going to see that movie you’ve been raving about all week, or are you going to keep pushing this?” 

Rhodey sighs, but drops the subject. As they walk out of the restaurant, Tony bumps their shoulders together, just to prove that he can. If he’s tense while doing it, if there's two layers of clothes between them, and if it only lasts for a second, Rhodey’s nice enough to not comment on it. 

It’s only once they’re back at the tower later that night, the elevator doors open on the guest floor, that Rhodey comes back to the topic, pinning Tony with his no-nonsense look. “The whole thing with Pepper wasn’t easy on you, I know that. And Barnes, well,” he smiles wryly, “he has baggage of his own. But, Tones, you deserve to be happy. And biology, at least, thinks Barnes could be the person who helps you with that. Do you really not want to find out if you could be good together?” 

He leaves Tony with that to chew over, which is exactly the kind of dickish best friend move Tony should’ve expected from him, honestly. 

And it’s not as if Tony hasn’t been thinking about it, pretty much constantly, for the last three weeks. He does know the biology and math behind spontaneous bonds, Rhodey’d been right about that much, but they’re also just that; biology and math. There’s all that Hollywood bullshit about destiny, fate, and soulmates, but it’s impossible to buy into all that with the current rates of divorce and domestic violence in bonded pairs. And after growing up in a house with Howard and Maria, who’d bonded during their second date, and then spent the rest of their lives making themselves—and everyone around them—miserable. 

Tony would be lying if he claimed not to be curious, though. Of course he is. Barnes—Tony’s memories of those sparse minutes before Barnes had been pulled away are foggy, which says a lot in and of itself. Barnes had felt right, pressed against Tony, and the world around them—the yelling, the people, all the smells and noise—had vanished, all of Tony’s senses honing in on Barnes, and Barnes alone. 

Even now, Tony isn’t sure if he’s angry at Steve, or thankful to him for, eventually, leading Barnes away to one of the waiting government vans. Both, most likely. 

In the end, Tony doesn’t have to make a decision whether or not to contact Barnes, because Steve makes it for him. He calls Tony early the next morning, a mere two hours after Tony’s finally managed to stop tossing and turning, sounding harassed as he snaps, “This is ridiculous, for fuck’s sake, and it has got to stop. Get your ass down here, ASAP!” before hanging up again. 

“Language,” Tony tells the dial tone, yawning loudly. 

And then he gets up to make some coffee. He has a feeling he’ll need it. 

Barnes is currently being housed and treated at a U.N. facility, at the behest of Secretary Ross, and much to Steve’s displeasure. Tony’d offered up one of the empty apartments at the tower, and been only slightly disappointed when Barnes had been deemed too much of a danger, to others and himself, to be set free just yet. Steve had tried to fight Ross on it, of course, until Barnes had, apparently, told him to shut it, and agreed to stay at the facility until a specially assembled group of psychiatrists and behavioural therapists deemed him healthy and sane enough to live on his own. 

Steve’d been in a snit about it for days, but had calmed down somewhat after Tony had given Barnes’ doctors access to B.A.R.F. to help with the trigger removal, and Nat had promised to have her contacts on the inside—because of course Nat has people spying for her inside the U.N.—keep a close eye on him. 

The part of the facility Barnes is staying in looks a little too much like a hospital for Tony’s tastes, all sterile and impersonal, but he wouldn’t have put it past Ross to just throw Barnes in jail, insisting it was for his own safety, so this is definitely preferable. A nurse, who seems to be trying to make up for the blandness of the place with her forced cheer, leads Tony through the corridors, chattering excessively, probably to distract Tony from the fact that there are a lot more security doors and checkpoints here than there would be in a regular hospital. 

“Captain Rogers has put you on the list of approved visitors,” she tells him, gesturing at the door at the end of the hall, “you can head right in. If there are any problems the cameras don’t catch, please don’t hesitate to use the emergency alert button inside the room, and we’ll send in someone from our security personnel.” 

Tony waits until she’s out of sight to pull a face. And then he knocks, because that’s the polite thing to do, and he does have some manners. At Steve’s, “Yes?” he pokes his head into the room, taking everything in. 

The room itself looks a lot less depressing than the rest of the facility, more like a small apartment than an actual hospital room. Apart from the security cameras, of course, but the jammer Tony carries with him whenever he goes near any place Ross has jurisdiction over should take care of the sound recording, at least. 

“Finally,” Steve grumbles, pulling Tony inside by the wrist. At that, Barnes drops down from where he’s been doing pull-ups using the bar fixed into the bathroom doorway, and bares his teeth at Steve, eyes narrowed. Steve rolls his own eyes right back, and pushes Tony towards Barnes with a long-suffering, “Fix this, you knuckleheads.” 

And then he walks out of the room, leaving Tony and Barnes to stare at each other, the air thick with the smell of their combined, nervous wariness. It’s that, though, the fact that it’s not just him who isn’t sure about this whole situation, that pushes Tony forward, closer to Barnes. 

“Hi,” he says, and offers a small smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and rocking back on his heels. Barnes watches him, worrying at the inside of his cheek. Tony laughs quietly, ducking his head. “So, this is pretty awkward, huh?”

Barnes huffs, amused. “Ha, yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair, and Tony tries and fails to not find the way that leaves it all mussed and messy kind of endearing. “And, uh. Sorry ‘bout Stevie. He’s stubborn. An' protective.” 

“I would’ve appreciated getting summoned after the sun’s actually up,” Tony teases, making Barnes smile back at him, finally, “but, as much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point.”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” Barnes says, grinning. But he still looks tense, and a moment later he’s frowning again, fidgeting around where he stands. “Sorry, I—sorry, it’s just. Can I, maybe—if it’s a’right with you, could I, uh.”

Barnes lifts his arms, just a little, and Tony doesn’t hesitate before stepping into the embrace, winding his own arms around Barnes’ back, and tentatively tucking his nose against Barnes’ throat. Barnes shudders at that, hands tightening where they’re clutching at Tony’s jacket, and pushes his nose into Tony’s hair, breathing in slow and deep. 

Tony sighs, and lets more of his weight rest against Barnes, who holds him up easily, rumbling appreciatively. It sends a jolt of want through Tony, and for a second he’s almost embarrassed, but then Barnes shifts, and oh, wow. That’s definitely a semi poking Tony in the stomach, there. 

“Sorry,” Barnes mumbles, once he notices that Tony’s noticed. He goes to pull back, but stills when Tony keeps holding on. “This okay?”

“More than,” Tony blurts, mind already starting to cloud with lust. He makes himself move back enough to blink up at Barnes, though, feeling himself go hot all over at the sight of Barnes’ flushed face, his blown pupils. He brings up a hand to thumb at Barnes’ lower lip, gasping softly when Barnes’ tongue darts out to lick at it. “Well,” he has to clear his throat when his voice comes out rough and hoarse, “this answers the question if you’d be into this, I guess.”

“That why you made yourself scarce the last few weeks?” Barnes—and Tony should probably start using his first name soon, considering where he thinks this is going to go—asks, turning his head to brush his lips over the palm of Tony’s hand. “You thought I wouldn’t want you?”

Tony nips at his jaw, partly for the low groan it gets out of Barnes—out of James, but mostly to hide his face so he can admit, “The thought might have crossed my mind, briefly. And, not to be a dick about it, but Steve would’ve given you my number, if you’d asked.”

He doesn’t expect James to snort at that, but he can’t pout too much when, a moment later, James kisses his temple. “You know what I’ve done. In general, an’ to your family specifically. Can you really blame me for not bein’ sure about my welcome?” 

And no, Tony really, really can’t.

What he can do, though, is push up onto his toes, and kiss James. 

James responds immediately, cupping Tony’s face between his hands, and opening his mouth against Tony’s. When James starts walking Tony back towards the bed, Tony lets him, but turns them around at the last moment, and gives James a gentle push. James laughs, startled, as he falls down on the bed, hands settling on Tony’s hips when Tony crawls onto it after him. 

A mischievous glint in James’ eyes is all the warning Tony gets before he’s being flipped, and then trapped underneath James’ heavy weight. It’s incredibly hot, having someone that can manhandle him this easily, but that doesn’t mean the Alpha in Tony is going to take this lying down. Figuratively or literally. 

He waits until James relaxes just enough, growing confident that he’s won, and then he bucks his hips upwards, toppling James over sideways. James reaches for him again before Tony can even sit up fully, dragging him closer by the ankle. Tony kicks at him, so James traps his legs, the two of them grabbing at each other as they try to pin the other. 

They’re both laughing and panting too much to continue, eventually—which is for the best, because the last thing either of them needs is their first time together on video—lying on their sides, close enough that their heaving chests brush with every other breath. James hooks a leg over both of Tony’s, pulling him even closer, and Tony threads his fingers into James’ hair, scratching softly at the back of his head. 

“‘M glad you’re here,” James says quietly, brushing his fingers over Tony’s cheek, down his throat. “An’ lucky. So damn lucky. I don’t know what woulda happened if you hadn’t been there that day, to snap me outta it. To bring me back.” 

“To spontaneous bonds,” Tony says, smiling, and nuzzles James’ hand. “Definitely saved our collective asses.” 

James bumps their foreheads together, smiling back softly. “Don’t sell yourself short. The bond helped, no doubt ‘bout that, but it was you who knocked that asshole’s voice outta my head.” 

Tony frowns, not entirely sure he’s following. “What do you mean?” 

“You made me stop hurtin’ Steve?” James sounds confused, too, now, eyes flickering between Tony’s narrowed ones. “‘S not like I’m an expert, but when you took my powers it was—I think it was enough of a shock to start breakin’ the hold he had over me? ‘Cause they linked my powers to the triggers, or somethin’ like that? I really only understand half of the shit they did to me.”

Tony rears back, batting away James’ hand when James doesn’t let go of him fast enough. He ignores the pang in his chest at the slightly hurt look that crosses over James’ face in favour of demanding sharply, “When I did what?”

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com).


End file.
